FOOTBALL, ART AND QUEER CULTURE: THE JUSTIN CAMPAIGN 2008-2009

This text was originally written to accompany the 'Another Sport is
Possible ... ?' exhibition held at Galerija Nova, Testina 7, Zabreb in
June 2012, in conjunction with Zagreb Pride. It is reproduced at IBWM by
kind permission of the author and the curator.

February 2008: the Brighton Bandits go to Nottingham for a
Gay Football Supporters’ Network (GFSN) national league match against the
Nottingham Ballbois. It’s a long trip – 150 miles each way. A professional
football team would hire a bus, and might play cards or watch a film, but as an
amateur side, the Bandits drive in separate cars.

About to represent the Bandits for only the second time, I’m
travelling with club co-founders Paul Windsor and Jason Hall. They are two of
the more socially conscious members of the squad, profiled in Ian McDonald’s
documentary Brighton Bandits, the first about a gay football team, which
premiered at Brighton’s CineCity festival in December 2007. Indeed, it was this
which attracted me, a writer publishing short stories, articles on avant-garde
literature and film and a column on transgender culture in Brighton and Hove’s
lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer (LGBTQ) newspaper one80news, to
join.

I soon click with social worker Windsor and artist Hall, who
designed the club’s badge. We all play for the Bandits because it provides a
‘gay-friendly’ space: as players and spectators, we’ve found mainstream
football culture unwelcoming towards anyone even suspected of straying from
sexual or gender norms, and the national and international tournaments for
‘gay’ teams provide a framework for us to meet and play competitively.

Being ‘gay’ is not essential to be a Bandit, which has
caused friction (shown in McDonald’s film): do the team want to focus on
winning by recruiting the best players possible, regardless of sexuality, or
protect their core identity? This manifests itself in the divide between the
younger ‘straight’ players who have helped to improve results and the older gay
men who formed the club in 2003, and who do the organisational work necessary
to fulfil League fixtures publicise the club and attract sponsorship.

Hall, Windsor and I discuss this, but only Windsor calls
himself gay. Hall identifies as bisexual and me as transgender, but we’re both
discovering queer – sexually, culturally and politically. Besides football,
Hall – who suggests rebranding the Bandits as a queer team, but is quickly shot
down – and I share a love of genderqueer performance artists such as Jonny Woo
and Ma Butcher, Pia Arber and Lucy McEvil, the performers at London’s Wotever
World and Transfabulous, and colourful activist groups such as Queer Belgrade,
the Radical Faeries or the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.

As we pass the City Ground, home of two-time European
champions Nottingham Forest, and Meadow Lane, which hosts Notts County, the
world’s oldest league club, we talk about Justin Fashanu – still the only
professional to come out as gay during his career. Fashanu is not only close to
our hearts because of his sexuality. Hall is a Nottingham Forest fan, more
proud of manager Brian Clough’s miraculous European Cup victories of 1979 and
1980 than of how Clough treated Fashanu after Forest signed him for £1m from
Norwich City, the club I support. We’d all found Fashanu’s suicide – and the
tabloid coverage – deeply traumatic, aware that Fashanu had endured so much
homophobic abuse: from Clough, who confronted Fashanu over his trips to “those bloody poofs’ clubs” before
selling him to Notts County; his brother John, who disowned him after he came
out; team-mates and crowds. Ten years later, we wondered why there was so
little dialogue about Fashanu’s life and death.

After Jason asked Ian about the possibility of making a film
about Fashanu, we agreed to form the Justin Campaign, with Ian documenting its
first year. Having a separate LGBTQ league (the GFSN competitions welcomed
bisexual and queer players, with its co-ed policy offering lesbian and trans
people somewhere to play) was great, and we welcomed the English Football
Association (FA)’s work with Stonewall and the GFSN to combat homophobic
chanting from the stands, but recalling Fashanu, we felt that mainstream
football should be more accommodating for sexual and gender minorities who
wanted to play.

We started planning: Hall the artist, with big ambitions; me
the situationist, exploring the relation between theory and practice; and
Windsor the pragmatist, considering the practicalities. We looked at working
from the top down, wanting to ask the FA to back a day to remember Justin
Fashanu with black armbands and a minute’s silence, Premier League clubs to
discuss the Campaign in their programmes and the Professional Footballers’
Association, UEFA and FIFA to issue statements condemning homophobia. (For all
his faults, FIFA President Sepp Blatter criticised former Croatia coach Otto
Barić, then managing Albania, who told the Jutarnji List newspaper that “I have no place for homosexuals in my
team”. These comments were echoed in November 2010 by Croatian Football
Federation leader Vlatko Marković, who stated that gay players should be banned
from the country.

But we knew that this type of activism was not for us, with
full-time jobs and without direct access to football’s main institutions, so we
adopted a more grass roots approach. “The
overall emphasis of the Campaign was always on fun,” says Hall. “It could be the gateway for people to
understand the issues around homophobia in football. Queer culture and art are
closely linked: neither connected much with sport, but I knew that bringing
them together would be successful.”

We aimed to combine creativity and politics in art
happenings, protests and declarations. “My
obsession with gay culture had taken me to a dark place,” recalls Jason, “and I wanted to do something good. Sport
and homophobia had been neglected, and a lot of LGBTQ people have poor health
as a result. Our methods of campaigning felt new and exciting – that was the
draw for a lot of people.” We began with an interview on BBC Southern Counties
Radio, deconstructing myths about “the
showers” at a gay team, with “nothing
much” being the answer, and Fashanu’s career as a gay footballer. I planned
a biography, with my discoveries about his life having significant impact on
our campaign, but it remains unfinished: I later wrote several articles on
Fashanu, some of which accompany this exhibition*.

Ultimately, we aimed to raise awareness of Justin Fashanu
Day, scheduled for 2 May 2009, and the Campaign’s opening after that weekend’s
Stonewall Equality Walk. The three of us carried (heavy) placards with slogans
such as ‘Justice for Justin’ and ‘A Minute’s Silence, Not a Decade’ to
Brighton’s Amsterdam Hotel, a gay venue that sponsored the Bandits, where we
held our launch. Jason discussed the need to combat homophobia in football, as
did veteran LGBTQ rights campaigner Peter Tatchell, a friend of Fashanu’s from
the striker’s time at Nottingham Forest until his death.

There was controversy. Many Bandits’ gay players were
‘straight acting’, with some closeted in their day jobs. One asked why we were “raking up” Fashanu’s story, and others
expressed concerns about linking the club with our activism, forcing us to
demarcate more clearly between the two despite Jason and Paul using Ian’s
Brighton Bandits to provoke discussion in colleges and universities. In the
film, several players attacked ‘camp’, describing it as a “put-on” and emphasising a masculine gay identity – a prejudice
which Jason and I had reacted against, resenting anti-feminine sentiments
within some gay, queer or even feminist cultures**.

We screened Brighton Bandits at The Odeon in Brighton for
the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia (IDAHOBIT)
on 17 May 2008: I introduced the film and a question and answer session with
several Bandits players, including Paul. Then, accompanied by Tatchell, we went
to Jason’s home for his Open House art exhibition, held as part of the Brighton
Festival. Jason designed a bedroom for a child who supported a gay football
team, filled with Justin Fashanu memorabilia and with Fashanu’s famous Goal of
the Season for Norwich City against Liverpool in February 1980 played on a
continuous loop.

His installation, Girls’ School, also confronted the
audience with wider social discrimination. It ‘consists of a decommissioned tank bullet shell, an AK-47 and some
bullets,’ wrote Jason for the Art and Football Against Homophobia press
release. ‘I’ve engraved homophobic
insults on the edge of the tank shell. This stands as a reminder of words that
… are no longer so damaging – decommissioned, if you will … The gun has very
likely killed someone in the past, but has now been deactivated. The message is
clear: I am on the offensive, and have become active in diffusing homophobia.’

At the launch, a heckler had shouted at Tatchell about the
ethics of using Fashanu’s name in such campaigning when he was not alive to
give his approval. We debated this subject intensively before the International
Gay & Lesbian Football Association (IGLFA) World Cup in London in August
2008, concerned that we were turning Fashanu into a martyr, erasing the
complexities in his life, particularly that he died under suspicion of sexual
assault; that his Evangelical faith had clashed with his sexuality as much as
his sport; and that his football career had been revived at Torquay United
after he came out, being ended by his habit of selling stories about his private
life to the tabloids.

Eventually we decided to acknowledge that homophobia was not
responsible for all of Fashanu’s problems, but that it affected him before and
after coming out, and that a greater understanding of the conflicts between
Fashanu’s family background, career, religion and sexuality would help future
LGBTQ footballers, amateur or professional. We would focus on Fashanu’s life
rather than his death, planning future events such as Football v Homophobia for
his birthday – 19 February – rather than the anniversary of his suicide, and
making it clear that we didn’t want to force anyone out of the closet, but that
we aimed to create a welcoming environment for those wishing to come out.

With our theoretical basis secured, we campaigned with more
confidence, and attracted new recruits. This allowed us to start working with
the game’s governing bodies. Jason and Ian met the FA’s Equalities Manager,
discussing England defender Rio Ferdinand’s homophobic comments on BBC Radio
1’s Chris Moyles Show , and former Luton Town, Aston Villa and Chelsea star
Paul Elliott MBE, who repeated Tatchell and Fashanu’s suggestion of October
1990 that there were at least twelve gay footballers around at the time.

However, with Paul, Jason and I remaining the driving
forces, the Campaign continued to be dominated by art as a means of raising
awareness. Jason displayed his work in the University of Brighton’s Fans,
Stands & Homosexuality exhibition in November 2008, his ‘challenge to the
last taboo of professional football’ featuring alongside Richard Baskett’s
‘pilgrimage to the Africa Cup of Nations’ and ‘a meditation on the soul of
non-League football’ by David Bauckham. His contribution juxtaposed one image
of himself exploring a more genderqueer identity, with false eyelashes,
eyeliner and lipstick, and another of his face disfigured by a homophobic
assault – both with the same expression.

What drew the crowds, however, was Jason’s spectacular
football table. “I bought a very regular
table and spent a week pinking it up,” he remembers. “I sprayed it, embellished it with diamanté, glitter and a pitch made
from a disco mirror ball – I wanted it to be as camp as possible.” The
table infused one of British football culture’s gentler elements with queer
imagery, creating a “Barbie-esque”
object that would constantly remind players of its context, but Jason found
that “big rugby lads” had no
reservations about using it, ignoring its décor as they immersed themselves in
their games.

Before a Brighton Bandits match at the University campus,
the Campaign staged a competition to recreate that famous Fashanu goal. Jason
designed a trophy for the player who came closest to replicating the strike, in
which Fashanu, 25 yards out with his back to goal, flicked the ball over his
head, turned and hit a curling volley past Liverpool goalkeeper Ray Clemence
into the bottom corner. Everyone got three attempts and – if they scored – also
had to copy Fashanu’s iconic celebration, raising a single finger in
celebration of his own brilliance. Bandits centre-forward Aidie Norman came
closest, and won the cup.

Gathering momentum, we found more possibilities to slot the
Campaign into Brighton & Hove’s LGBTQ infrastructure. The city had an
annual Pride parade in summer and a festival in winter, and after being awarded
a grant by the Winter Pride committee, we worked with the City Council to stage
a large-scale event in the recently constructed Jubilee Square to tie in with
LGBT History Month.

The Justin Campaign Football Festival took place on 7 March
2009. We turned the Square into a queer-friendly arena, capturing the public
with stalls offering information on local and national LGBTQ football,
particularly the Brighton Bandits, the GFSN and the life of Justin Fashanu. FA
coaches trained children and adults and ran games in the 5-a-side pitch we’d
installed (after rigorous health and safety checks to manage the implications
of footballs flying around the Square’s new glass buildings). It was chaotic,
but as always, fun – people young and old crowded onto the pitch, intuitively
recognising that the scenario we’d created was unique, and relishing the chance
to play in the middle of a new urban development.

At 3pm that Saturday – traditionally the kick-off time for
domestic League matches – and with coverage from the BBC and ITV News, we
unveiled our greatest weapon in our fight to unite football and queer culture:
the Justin Fashanu All Stars, a team open to anyone (of any sexuality) who
wished to represent the Campaign in tournaments or friendlies. Its bright pink
shirts were sponsored by local music legend Fatboy Slim, aka Norman Cook, whose
record label, Skint, had also backed League club Brighton & Hove Albion.
Cook offered a quote for our press release: ‘I am proud that I can be part of
Justin’s legacy. He was brave, out – and a great footballer. Hopefully one day,
I can be in the strip!’

Designed by Jason with a new badge which doubled as a
Campaign logo, the strip did not pass without comment – as intended. “The shirts were controversial amongst gay
people – the GFSN thought it too stereotypical,” says Jason. “Pink is a
passive colour that’s very confrontational. If you beat a straight team whilst
wearing pink, it has more impact, as we’re not shying away from who we are.”

At the Festival, we announced the squad for our first
tournament, in Leeds, held by the Yorkshire Terriers, a GFSN League side,
before the All Stars went to the Iceland Express gay tournament – patronised by
former Chelsea, Barcelona and Iceland star Eiður Guðjóhnsen. Then we prepared
the second half of the evening – where the emphasis shifted from football that
incorporated queer culture to queer culture that involved football.

This was a table football tournament, hosted by Jonny Woo
and Ma Butcher, who compered Soho’s popular Gay Bingo in – “avant-garde queer entertainment” as Jason recalls it. We set up
a number of tables in the imperious Jubilee Library, with mixed-gender teams of
two people competing to play the final on the glittering pink table. With
‘alternative drag queens’ Woo and Butcher as MCs, their exaggerated femininity
punctured by thick facial hair and, in Butcher’s case, a pig’s nose, the tournament
had a frenetic, fun feel.

At this point, I left the Campaign, beginning my gender
reassignment in May 2009. At IDAHOBIT Day the previous year, I’d met Guardian
journalist Chris Borg, who then helped me get my Transgender Journey blog
commissioned by the newspaper’s website – the first time that the process had been
documented in a major British publication, furthering the possibilities of
taking queer culture into a mainstream space that had been resistant, as we had
with the Campaign.

So I missed Justin Fashanu Day, with LGBTQ choir Various
Voices singing You’ll Never Walk Alone – inextricably associated with Liverpool
FC – and Jason staging a minute’s silence at Tate Modern. He stood in the
gallery in his All Stars kit, with his banner, paying his quiet tribute to
Justin until the security guards kicked him out. Then, when artist Antony
Gormley announced his One and Other installation, Jason applied to be one of
2,400 people to stand on the empty fourth plinth at London’s Trafalgar Square,
taking his spot on 22 July 2009 – a means of directly confronting the public
with the Campaign’s ideals.

Since then, the Campaign has grown – attracting the people
who could work with the football authorities, taking a different direction.
Like me, Jason is no longer part of the Campaign committee, but like me,
continues to play in tournaments for the All Stars, attend its seminars at the
University of Brighton and elsewhere, and create work which aims to bring LGBTQ
people and football closer together. “My
proudest moment was seeing 12-14 year old lads wearing the All Stars at the
Amex Community Stadium [Brighton and Hove Albion’s new ground, opened in
summer 2011] at half-time during the
Denmark v England U19 match”, says Jason. “There’s been nothing better than seeing that happen in front of 18,000
people.”

For me, it was seeing Justin – Ian McDonald’s film about the
first year of the Campaign – premiere at CineCity in December 2011. Paul and I
were present, looking at ourselves being interviewed by BBC Radio and attending
the Amsterdam Hotel launch on the big screen, watching the interviews with
Justin’s friend Marisol Acuña, and his niece Amal Fashanu. We remembered when
Amal wore the All Stars kit for Football v Homophobia, the conversations with
Peter Tatchell about his years in activism, the intense debates we had about the
best way to combine queer counter-culture and football, and felt a quiet joy in
all that we achieved.

* In particular, my New Statesman article ‘Justin Fashanu and
the politics of memory’, published 2 May 2012.

** For further reading, I recommend Whipping Girl: A
Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano
(2007).